


Demons Don't Love Gently

by Kikoiku



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Also An Angel, Also a demon, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But Kinda Fails Majorly, Caffeine Addiction, Cheating, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Connor Is A Cheeky Little Shit, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Gavin & Tina Are Besties, Gavin Reed Has Issues, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Tries Being An Asshole, M/M, Nightmares, Physical Abuse, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, There's Implied Sexual Content, They Have A Good Relationship For Once, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Upgraded Connor RK900/Gavin Reed-centric, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Being An Asshole, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Upgraded Connor | RK900 and Gavin Reed are Police Partners, We Call Him Richard In This Household, You Can't Even Call It That, smut?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikoiku/pseuds/Kikoiku
Summary: Gavin could've been happy. Gavin was happy. Until his husband became abusive, until he had to hide the bruises forming on his body.On the night of a particularly bad fight he flees into his regular bar, planning to drown his worries in alcohol, in hopes it will make him feel less of the hurt, like he always does.Until a mysterious stranger takes him home, mixing up his feelings in a confusing way and Gavin has to figure what he wants, not knowing that there's so much more to his new partner than he was ready to believe.
Relationships: Connor & Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed, Gavin Reed/Original Male Character(s), Hank Anderson/Connor, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed, Tina Chen & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 30
Kudos: 125





	1. In The Beginning There Was Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mr_mittelpraechtig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_mittelpraechtig/gifts).



Gavin walked the streets of Detroit, his heart, his thoughts racing. The pain still radiated from his hip to his chest, but he tried to ignore it. He just wanted to run, run, run from this place, from this cave of hurtful memories.  
He and Erin had been fighting. Again. And the whole thing got out of control. Again.  
Gavin could still feel Erin's hand on his face, that surely left a bruise, and the kick on his hipbone, that made him limp ever so slightly.

He got away – this time – but he knew that when he came home he had to expect worse.

It wasn't the first time Gavin asked himself where it all went wrong. They had been happy, for the first three years. Then the marriage came and the first six month were the best Gavin had ever experienced. But Erin started drinking, more and more every day. Then the insults began, the belittling. And then the beating.

Erin crawled up the walls on every little thing. This time it was half an hour. Half an hour that Gavin was coming home late, working overtime on a dead girl's case, that had its grip on him. Because he was alone on the case, after his typical asshole-attitude drove his last partner to quit after only three weeks.

He stopped at the door of the bar. By now most of the regulars knew him. There was hardly a day that went by, where he didn't end up in the place. He took a deep breath, decided that his face didn't look as bad as he felt and went through the door.  
A gush of stuffy air blew in his face, the smell of Bourbon almost overwhelming. Some of the regulars raised their glass as a greeting, he acknowledged them with a short nod. He slipped on one of the bar stools at the counter and ran his hand over his face. Theodore, the barkeeper, slipped him a glass of Whisky, which Gavin gratefully accepted.

“Rough day, Detective?" Theodore asked, bracing himself against his side of the counter.  
“Urgh, don't even get me started," he replied and ran his hand over his face again, before taking a deep sip out of his glass.

“Hey, a barkeeper's second job is basically being a psychologist, so if you wanna drop-" Theodore ended his sentence with a shrug and a small sympathetic smile. Gavin nodded, thanking him, but refusing. He was not allowed to talk about the case and he _definitely_ didn't want to talk about Erin right now. He still felt sick from the scene earlier and he was sure if he wasn't grasping the glass in front of him like a lifeline, his hands would be trembling.

He sat there in silence, occasionally sipping on his drink, but lost in his thoughts otherwise. Until a man slid onto the stool next to him.  
Gavin squinted into his direction, watching him order a drink himself. The man irritated him. It was a slow evening, the bar was not as packed as usual. He could've sat anywhere he wanted, why did it have to be next to him of all people?

From what Gavin could tell from his silhouette, the man was about his age, and in fact quite attractive, objectively spoken – or maybe it was the Bourbon, Gavin didn't really care. The man ordered himself another drink – _Man, his day had to be rougher than mine_ , Gavin noted – running one hand through his black hair, messing it up in the process. One stubborn streak fell back into his face, but he didn't bother trying to fix it. His three-days-beard was definitely done professionally, the glasses on his nose probably some damn expensive model.

Somehow he looked vaguely familiar.

Gavin decided to let it go and focused on his drink again, sinking back into the sweet hell of hurt and self-blame. He knew he shouldn't do it to himself, but he wasn't exactly in control of his thoughts, high on adrenaline and alcohol.  
Gavin finished his drink, debating whether to leave the bar, go home and take the beating somewhat sober – or stay next to this irritating guy, drinking alcohol like water, passing out on the counter until tomorrow.

But the man next to him seemed to want to make the decision for him. He pushed one of his drinks in Gavin's direction. Gavin looked up at him, one eyebrow raised in question. “You should drink," his opposite said, cleaning his glasses with the hem of the sweatshirt he was wearing in combination with a blue tweed jacket, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Seems like you could use it.”

He raised his glasses to check for any remaining stains – if there even had been any, Gavin could easily believe he only did it for show – seemingly ignoring Gavin's reaction.  
If he wanted to play a game, Gavin accepted the challenge. He was too exhausted to refuse, anyway.  
The other man placed his glasses back on his nose, extending a hand towards Gavin. “Richard, pleasure to meet you.”

Gavin cautiously took his hand, wondering how anyone could talk in such a professional, old-fashioned manner while trying to enjoy a night off, meeting new people. “Gavin.”  
“So, what lies this heavy on your mind, Gavin?" Richard asked, taking a sip from his own glass, not taking his eyes off the smaller man.

Gavin faced away, turning to look at the wall that was decorated with all kinds of trivialities. He noticed that he'd never given them much thought. “I'd rather not talk about it," he said quietly, turning the glass between his hands. “I'd actually prefer forgetting it.” Gavin put the glass to his lips, trying to push the memory as far into the back of his mind as possible.

“Then how about," Richard said in a low, raspy voice. He leaned intimidatingly close to Gavin's ear. Gavin could feel Richard's breath against his auricle. “I'll take you somewhere else, making you forget for a while?“

Gavin looked at him from the corner of his eye, meeting Richard's blue-eyed gaze. There was mischief glimmering in his stare, waiting for something, but leaving Gavin in control. Gavin emptied his glass at once, debating his two options: Going with Richard, being unfaithful. Or going home, into his – and Erin's – apartment, where his husband would surely wait on him.

The pure thought of going back made his stomach turn.

He gestured to Theodore, putting the money he owed into his palm with a well-placed tip – he wouldn't snitch on Gavin, if Erin searched for him here.  
Gavin spun around to his new acquaintance, putting on a cheeky smile: “Should we go, then?”  
A satisfied grin on his lips, Richard put an arm around Gavin's Shoulders, while Gavin rested a hand on his hip. Gavin squinted up to the taller man, strangely enough feeling safer in this stranger's arms than he had sleeping in Erin's for years and it might be the alcohol speaking out of him, but he thinks to himself _Maybe this is not such a bad idea.  
_ So he let Richard take him home, take him away from the place he feared.

He hoped he wouldn't regret it in the morning.

That night Gavin didn't think of Erin, didn't think of bruises and bloody knuckles. His mind was filled with sloppy kisses, tender touches, gentle caress. Richard was there, there, _there_ , his tongue between his teeth, fingernails scratching over his skin, sending a shiver down Gavin's spine. Richard's presence was overwhelming, intimidating, dangerous – but not like Erin, never like Erin.

There were lingering silences, wanting looks, awaiting Gavin's consent for every move, focusing on pleasure for both of them, instead of just his own. Feather-light touches against his abdomen made Gavin gasp for air, he felt a blush creeping up his neck as Richard traced his fingertips along his jawline.

Gavin didn't know how he could ever think that this between him and Erin was making _love_.  
Five years of being with him, two years of marriage and yet Gavin felt more loved in the hands of a stranger, than he did with his husband.  
He pushed the thoughts aside, locked his lips with the man above him, letting Richard take care of him.

Let himself feel loved in the safety of a stranger's sheets.

In the afterglow, Gavin was panting heavily, a welcome wave of drowsiness washing over him. Richard had come to rest beside him, disheveled, his breath just as heavy as Gavin's. He was taking in Gavin's silhouette, a gentle smile on his lips. A snarky comment was tingling on Gavin's tongue, but he swallowed it, exhaustion getting the better of him.  
He could feel fingers intertwining with his and a soft kiss against his shoulder, before he drifted off into sleep, not having a nightmare for the first time in weeks.

* * *

Gavin woke up in an empty bed in a foreign flat and he didn't know how to feel about it. He didn't drink enough to have a blackout about the night before. He knew that he had to come up with a good excuse, maybe Tina would help. At the moment it was hard for him to think about the bad things when the sun shone through the blinds, promising a beautiful day.

Gavin almost didn't want to get up, but eventually he would have to do so, anyway. He let out a soft groan, stretching as he got out of the bed, gathering his clothes. Gavin looked down on his body – a bruise was forming at his hip and he couldn't quite walk right. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, however, when he didn't find any hickeys.

He didn't know how he would've explained them to Erin.

He put on his shirt right as he stepped out into the living room, spotting Richard in the open kitchen on the other side of the room. A wave of embarrassment washed over him. He didn't know how to behave – he had hoped he'd be awake before him and could leave as if he'd never been there. Now he was stalking across the room, one hand in his pocket, the other pressed against his side, questioning where the fuck his jacket was. Had he even brought one? He wasn't so sure anymore.

The black-haired, blue-eyed ~~beauty~~ prick stood at the stove, dressed in tight jeans and a black turtleneck, looking hot as hell. Gavin started feeling guilty, an emotion that he was used to. Didn't mean he liked it.

Richard shot him a glance over his shoulder, looking perfectly unbothered and definitely less disheveled than Gavin did. His voice matched the facade, as he spoke, “Good to see you awake. Does pancakes for breakfast sound good?”

Gavin was taken aback, running a hand through his hair – he most certainly had expected a lot of things, but not...this. So he did what he could best: Escape.  
“That's, uh-, that's really nice of you, but I-, uhm, I should really go," Gavin answered in the end, gesturing towards the front door.

“Whoever said I intended to let you go?" Richard said and Gavin could hear the smile in his voice. Gavin narrowed his eyebrows, sirens ringing inside his mind. He had heard this words before, in a much darker, more possessive voice and yet his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in right away. He wanted nothing more than to leave.

“What you wanna do? Tie me to a bedpost?" it slipped from Gavin's mouth, as so often not thinking before speaking.

“Depends. Do you want me to?" there was a smugness in his tone that took the threatening atmosphere from Gavin, but that didn't stop his heart from racing madly. Something else mixed into the uneasiness, something Gavin couldn't really place – it made him nervous.

“Wow, wouldn't have thought you were this much of a prick. I mean. The potential was there, but to this extent? Exceeds even my expectations." Rambling. Gavin was rambling and he was sure his ears were in _flames_ right now. As Richard looked over his shoulder a smile that confirmed Gavin's concern appeared on his face.

“You will just have to accept that you're speaking with a demon then," he said somewhat smugly. It pissed Gavin off and a frown appeared on his face. A snarky remark was tingling on the tip of his tongue, but he let it drop as soon as Richard turned away again.

“So if you don't intend to let me go," Gavin said, hands sweaty. “What next?“ He looked up to Richard, expecting another impertinent answer. Instead Richard's next words were the most serious he had spoken in the short time they knew each other.

“Well, going home to your husband would be one possibility. The other would be breakfast with me and then heading straight to work, since I believe that our way may just be the same, Detective Reed.“

Gavin didn't know how he should feel about that. He could've heard about the Detective-Thing at the bar, but he had taken off his ring before entering – how did he know about Erin? Gavin looked at Richard like a deer looked at headlights. Once again his instincts told him to leave immediately, but something held him back. Instead, he pulled out a chair, sat down and had breakfast with the man who messed up his emotions in a way he didn't quite understand.

They mostly ate in silence, while Gavin tried to ignore Richard's curious gaze. The whole atmosphere of the situation was strange and Gavin didn't know what he could do about it. He wasn't the type for small-talk, especially not when his One-Night-Stand invited him for breakfast. But he didn't have much else to talk about, so the usually loud, talkative Detective kept his mouth shut and ate his pancakes.

When they were both done, Richard scooped up their plates and stood from his chair in one swift motion, putting the dishes into the sink.

Gavin took it as a sign to finally – finally! – leave, letting out a silent sigh. He found his shoes neatly placed next to the door and took another look around the apartment, looking for his jacket while putting on his shoes.

“Are you searching for this?” Richard's voice sounded unexpectedly close, making Gavin jump a little. His jacket appeared in his right eye's corner – he should've guessed the other man would have it. “Since you're in lack of your car at the moment, may I suggest giving you a ride?”

Stupid prick and his stuck-up way of talking.

“If you could just bring me to my car, that would be great," Gavin answered, snatching the jacket from Richard's hand.

“It would be a pleasure, Detective.”

* * *

Gavin practically sprinted out of Richard's car, ignoring the amused smile he surely gave him. He muttered a quick _Thanks_ , before slamming the door shut with more force than would've been necessary.

He let out a long, relieved sigh when he found his car-keys in the left pocket of his jacket. He wouldn't have to face Erin. Yet.  
He quickened his pace, getting into his car as fast as he could. His eyes fell onto the watch on his wrist. A small curse escaped his lips.  
He would be late. Again.

Fowler wouldn't be amused.

Fowler called Gavin into his office with a voice that clearly wouldn't tolerate objections. Gavin sighed, his nerves on edge. Just as he thought, Fowler had given him a lecture for being too late. Again. A headache was lingering somewhere in the back of his skull, his mind was stuck somewhere between what awaited him at home and the night he spent with Richard.

He had talked to Tina shortly after he came in. She had given him a look of concern, mixed with silent rage. She basically dragged him into the break room, demanding an explanation, why Erin had been pounding at her door at 1:37 in the morning. Seeing Gavin's face go pale, she admitted to giving him an alibi nonetheless, still somewhat pissed. Gavin couldn't blame her.

Gavin had promised her an explanation, but not at the precinct. Not when the chance of a breakdown increased by the minute.

Tina knew that something bad had been going on that night, of course she did. She was Gavin's best friend, he had told her about some of the less severe cases they had fought. About words that were spoken in anger, but not about the beating. Never about the beating.  
Before he went back to his desk, Tina had offered him her couch for one or two nights, until the situation had settled down a bit.  
Maybe Gavin would take her up on that offer.

He pushed himself out of his chair, under the weary eyes of Connor and Hank, but he didn't have the energy to flip them off, not today. He was frustrated, because he still didn't make progress in the case and grew more and more anxious, whenever he thought about the end of his shift.

He closed the door behind himself, spotting Richard in front of Fowler's desk. He stood straight, arms crossed behind his back. The taller man nodded barely noticeable, a grin tucking at the corners of his mouth.  
Fowler sat down at his table, inhaling a deep breath. Gavin saw a vein pulsating on his temple, clearly having a headache – which would explain his sour mood. “Reed, this is Richard Stern. Mr. Stern, this is Gavin Reed.”

Richard looked in Gavin's direction, now smiling. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow at the mention of Richard's full name. “Stern? Like Connor?” he asked, taking a closer look at Richard once again. Connor had a literal Babyface, with close to zero facial hair. He didn't have glasses either. But if he tried to erase those aspects...holy shit.

A small chuckle was heard across the room. “Connor is my elder brother, yes," Richard said, not taking his eyes off Gavin even once.

Fowler made an impatient move with his hand, drawing their attention to himself. “You can get to know each other off-duty. Reed, you're looking into this case, might have to do with that girl's you're working on. You're taking Stern with you.”

“What? Why me?” Gavin said with furrowed brows, snatching the file from Fowler's hands.

“Because it's your case, because you're the only one currently without a partner, and because I said so. Now move your ass out of my office," Fowler's voice was tense, close to exploding. Even Gavin knew not to mess with that. He exchanged another look with Richard, who still had that stupid smile on his face. Gavin let out an annoyed sound, but stormed out the office, shouting “Come on, asshat!” into Richards direction, before snatching his jacket and leaving the precinct. On their way to Gavin's car, Richard caught up to him. Gavin shot a glance into his direction, too furious to say anything. He opened his car, letting himself fall into the seat.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket, ignited it and inhaled a deep breath of that sweet, sweet nicotine. He registered Richard sliding into the passenger seat, all too aware of the proximity in the small driver's cab. “I'm assuming you have a couple of questions," Richard said, facing Gavin, who himself looked everywhere but Richards face.

He felt anger burning under his skin, wanting to punch something – preferably the prick directly next to him. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, balancing it between two fingers. “I don't know what's really to ask there," he said, practically spitting the words. “Obviously you knew who I was from scratch, knew I was married, knew we were gonna be partners and somewhere in between you didn't think it would be necessary to enlighten me on the whole situation. Did you at least have a reason to play the mysterious stranger?”

“I though it would be funnier that way. But to be frank with you, I didn't expect it to be this easy," that asshole had the audacity to chuckle.

Gavin shook his head. “You are a fucking asshole," was all he could mumble, before turning the key and driving out of the parking lot.

Richard shrugged. “Told you I was a demon.”


	2. The Flower That Smiles Today, Tomorrow Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigating a crime scene with his One-Night-Stand from the previous night was definitely in the Top10 of things Gavin would rather die then do them.  
> But here they were and Gavin was not gonna get out of it, no matter what he wished for.  
> Richard wouldn't let him.

The ride to the crime scene had been a long and silent one. Gavin wanted nothing more than to _talk_ , but that would've just made it awkward.

More so than it was already, anyway.

As soon as Gavin had stopped the car, he pushed the door open and got out. Richard hadn't brought up the previous evening and Gavin would not give him the chance to do so. He'd rather eat nails mixed with shards of glass.

Gavin spotted Chris in the driveway, talking to another cop that he recognized as one of the newbies. He didn't know his name, but then again he didn't really care, either.

“Hey, Chris, what do we have?” he asked, interrupting their conversation.

He gave the younger of the two a disparaging look, but immediately turned his attention back to Chris.

“Parent's bedroom, upstairs,” he said, leading the way, Gavin next to him. Gavin noticed Richard introducing himself, but he tried to zone him out. Richard's voice was distracting him and he couldn't afford that right now. He couldn't afford it at all, if he thought about it properly. He was glad that Chris interrupted his thoughts, giving him something else to focus on.

“The son. Lucas Montrose, 14. His throat was slashed, there are signs of sexual violence post-mortem. No signs of forced entry or any other signs of struggle.”

“He knew the killer,” Gavin stated. “Who found him?”

“The mother. Said she went away on a business trip for the weekend, found him on her return. Didn't say much else, besides a couple of facts.” Chris shrugged with an apologetic smile. “She's in shock. Not capable of further interrogation at this time,” there was sympathy in Chris' voice and for once Gavin felt it, too. Kid's cases were never easy for any of them. A brother, a colleague, a parent – they could deal with that. But kids hit different. And yet he had learned to push the feelings aside over the years, for the sake of his own sanity.

“Who else is living in the house? Husband? Siblings?” Gavin asked dryly while slowly climbing the stairs.

“Only him and the mother,” Chris replied, slightly shaking his head. “The father died two years ago, other family members live outside the state. A nanny should have been keeping an eye on him, Angelica Deva. But so far she seems to have vanished.”

Gavin stopped abruptly at the end of the stairs and looked down at Chris, who barely managed to avoid running straight into him. He continued to ignore Richard to the best of his ability.

“What do you mean _seems to have vanished_ ?” Gavin asked, irritated. He noticed Richard raising an eyebrow out of the corner of his eye. _He's not here. Just ignore him. Maybe he will turn to smoke if you just wish for it hard enough._

“We sent a team to her alleged place of residence. The flat was empty and the landlady didn't recognize her name, either. Said a young woman had recently taken an interest in the apartment, but under a different name. Probably the same woman, two names – both most likely fake.”

Gavin pinched his nose between his thumb and index finger. The headache was getting worse. “Great. We have a phantom to hunt,” he sighed heavily. “Okay. We need descriptions from the mother and the landlady as soon as possible.“ He stepped aside to let Chris through, following right on his footsteps “Afterwards, we're gonna check the neighbours. Maybe somebody saw something suspicious. Holy shit.”

They came to a halt in front of the parent's bedroom, looking directly into the lifeless eyes of a young boy, his face frozen in a grimace. His limbs were arranged in a grotesque way, obviously on purpose. There was a puddle of blood at the entrance, right at their feet. Gavin saw a knife peeking from behind the door.

“So we got the weapon.” It wasn't very helpful to point out the obvious, but Gavin did it anyway.

“Seems like we do,” Chris answered, even less helpful.

Gavin carefully stepped over the pool of blood, approaching the bed. He faintly registered Richard crouching down, but he didn't put much thought into it. Instead he looked down at the boy, into cold green eyes. He was laid out on colourful pillows, the patterns on them probably handmade. There was blood spilled over the boy's body, a little too much considering the blood at the door, but Gavin dismissed it as an illusion, created by the puddle beneath him, soaking the sheets and the mattress.

Someone had draped a blanket over the boy's lover half – the killer or one of the forensics, Gavin didn't want to know.

He furrowed his brows, as he assimilated the sight. “Different district, different age, different gender, hell, not even the same hair colour. What makes Fowler think it's got something to do with my case?”

He cast an expectant glance in Chris' direction, who had been typing something into his phone with flying fingers. He put it back into the pocket of his jacket, looking up, he pointed his head behind Gavin.

Gavin turned around, his eyes falling onto a dresser at the opposite side of the room. A small vase was set on it, round, white, with hand-painted ornaments. But the vase was not important to Gavin. What was important, was the bunch of flowers inside. Small blue flowers, with elongated leaves.

Gavin approached them, wanting to _touch_ them, but he kept his hands at his sides, digging his fingernails into his palms until it hurt. “Those damned flowers again,” he whispered, almost in awe.

“Have you seen them before?” Richard asked, suddenly closer than Gavin expected. He hadn't noticed him getting up, hadn't heard his footsteps across the room. The smell of the flowers mixed with that of Richard's cologne. Gavin hadn't payed attention to it earlier, but he felt it settling a strange kind of calmness in his mind.

It almost made him dizzy.

He forgot his plans to ignore Richard, and answered: “Saw them at the girl's crime scene. Were draped over her eyes.” He resisted the urge to look up at Richard. “Why?”

Richard reached over Gavin's shoulder, grabbing one of the flowers. “And you're sure they weren't here before?” Gavin felt Richard's breath against his ear as he spoke. It was warm and familiar and it shouldn't feel this intimate, but it did. His heart decided to beat faster and Gavin cursed it internally for doing so. He could literally hear the corner of Richard's mouth twitching upwards. So the bastard noticed.

Great.

“Mother says no,” Chris' voice chimed in and brought Gavin back to reality. “Said something about being allergic.”  
“Hm. Interesting.” Richard let go of the flower and rejoined Chris, who looked up at him, confused. Gavin put his hand over his heart, forcing himself to even out his breath.

He couldn't risk exposing himself.

“What's so interesting about it?” he asked over his shoulder, relieved that his voice sounded somewhat normal.

He turned around just in time to see an overbearing smile appear on Richard's face. He raised a hand that he had crossed behind his back and gestured with it, while he spoke, “For thousands of years people have used flowers as a means of non-verbal communication. Ancient China, Egyptian Hieroglyphics.”

Gavin stepped closer to him, without really noticing.

“In Victorian Europe they were used especially by young lovers, to express the feelings, they were not allowed to show in public.”

Richard put his eyes back on the bouquet behind Gavin.

“Every flower, every colour, even the manner of holding the bloom was given it's own meaning and thus became part of a complex system of communication.”

He grabbed one of the delicate stems and twisted it between his fingers. “If I remember correctly, these are called Scillas. They stand for the admission of a mistake and to erase it from one's memory.”

He put the slightly bent flower back into the vase, turning back and crossing his hands behind his back. “It seems that our killer knows exactly they have done something wrong and now they ask for forgiveness.”

Gavin clicked his tongue in disapproval, making a scornful sound, “Yeah, because the fact that at least he feels guilty will help the parents.”

Richard dropped the comment.

“Detective Reed, were there any abnormalities in the blood samples taken from the first crime scene?”

Gavin's eyes widened in surprise, both eyebrows raised. He cocked his head slightly to the left in a confused way. Furrowing his eyebrows in thought he gently shook his head, “Not that I know of. Why?”

He rudely ignored Gavin and Gavin didn't like it. It quite much bothered him, actually.

He scolded himself for it.

Richard walked over to them, standing next to Chris he looked down on him with curious eyes. “Officer Miller, am I correct in assuming the victim has been here for more than a day?”

There was an uneasy feeling spreading through Gavin's guts. Something was off. Maybe it was the way Richard looked at Chris, maybe it was the way he sounded so unbothered, maybe it was the way he ignored Gavin.

No matter what it was, Gavin didn't like it.

“Doc says at least two days, leaning towards three, yeah,” Chris answered, in a small, uncertain voice.

“Hm. And what do _you_ think happened here?”

Gavin crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had had enough of Richard's questions, the answers to which he did not go into, anyway. He tried not to ask himself whether it was a bad habit of his or if he simply had to make a show out of everything.

Fuck, he wanted a smoke.

“Uh, well,” Chris began, scratching his neck. “As stated earlier, the victim must've known the killer. We suspect some kind of drug or he was lured into a ambush, since there's no indications for a fight – but we'll have to wait on the autopsy for that.” Chris swallowed dryly, squinting up at Richard from the corner of his eye, pointing his chin in the door's direction. “We assume the killer slashed his throat over there and draped him on the bed afterwards.”

“Then you are assuming wrong,” Richard stated dryly, already before Chris had finished speaking. He turned to the boy on the bed. “The blood at the door is definitely not human – I doubt the blood on his body is, either.”

He looked up into Chris' surprised face, mouth gaping, eyes open wide. “I don't think he was killed in this room, probably not even this house. In addition to the nanny's description, may I suggest another examination of the girl's samples, in case something was missed?”

Gavin could hear that though stated as a question, it was not a question. He wanted to roll his eyes as Chris simply gave Richard a short nod, leaving right afterwards. Gavin shot a fierce glare in Richard's direction. “The fuck do you want to know, that blood that is?”

Richard was by Gavin's side faster than his eyes could progress, making him blink in surprise. Richard leaned down, invading Gavin's bubble, whispering, “Must have been my demon side.”

Richard distanced himself from Gavin, who felt his ears turning red again, and left the room. Gavin, still stunned, followed him on the heel.

* * *

Gavin had given up on hoping for a less awkward ride. He hated how everything he wanted to say made him sound clueless, stupid or would make him stutter, spilling out unfinished thoughts, which was even worse, in a sense. It was boiling in his blood, anger bubbling beneath the surface, demanding to break through.

But against his usual self he kept it inside, gripping the steering-wheel tighter instead. The whole situation made him feel uneasy and he cursed himself for not replacing the car radio weeks ago.

As soon as they reached the precinct, Gavin fled the car once again. He quickened his pace, hoping he'd reach the entrance before Richard could say anything that made him regret every decision that led him here.

“You know you can't run away from me forever, Gavin,” Richard shouted behind him, his arms resting on the roof of the car. His voice sounded smug – too smug for Gavin's taste.

“Who says I'm running away?” Gavin answered, his voice dripping with poison. “It's freakin' cold and I'd like to get inside _before_ I freeze my phcking ass off.” He didn't turn around at the obvious lie – though it was only half a lie, because it _was_ cold. Just not cold enough to make the Detective stay inside instead of having a smoke – but he did stop in his tracks, against his better knowledge.

He could've just walked away, but he didn't.

“We will have to talk about it eventually,” Richard noted, a less teasing tone in his voice now. “Might as well be right now.” Gavin heard the gravel crunching under his feet as he slowly approached.

Gavin pinched the root of his nose, turned halfway around and raised a defensive hand in Richard's direction. “Look – I don't wanna hear it. At all,” his voice sounded tired, beaten. Gavin blamed it on the headache. “I don't wanna think about it at work, I don't wanna talk about it in a stupid parking lot and I sure as hell don't wanna listen to your ambiguous references at a fucking crime scene. We're just gonna,” Gavin made a sweeping gesture, “Forget about the whole thing and that's it. Understand?”

Richard was behind him with two big steps, grabbing his face and squishing his cheeks between the fingers of one hand. The touch felt hot to the contrast of his cold skin. Gavin hadn't noticed how cold it actually had become. His breath rose in white clouds in front of him and mixed with Richards, only to disappear into the sky.

Richard looked down on him with dark eyes, his eyelashes casting shadows on his face and – were those freckles beneath his beard? Gavin hadn't noticed them before.

He couldn't _not_ look at him.

The expression on Richards face was something between teasing and challenging, as he spoke: “And you are sure this is what you desire?” He tilted his head. A mysterious smile on his lips, he raised an eyebrow.

Gavin was all too aware of their proximity.

_Too close, too close, too close_.

He couldn't think straight with Richards skin on his, blood rushing through his ears.

Gavin closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts, swatting away Richards hand. He turned his face away, trying to hide his heavy breathing and failing miserably. Still he answered, “Yes, I am. This was a one-time slip-up. I'm married. Happily so. Now back the fuck off.”

Gavin continued to head for the precinct, but that didn't keep Richard from crawling under his skin, taking root, becoming a part of him. There was a slight hint of anger in his voice as he shouted, “If you're oh-so happy, where did that bruise come from?” He caught up to Gavin, who vehemently pressed his lips together. Richard continued, quieter this time, “And why did you escape his company, preferring mine?”

Yet again, Gavin didn't answer.

Richard chuckled, almost purring. “Two can play this game, Gavin. Be aware that I don't play to lose.”

He held the door open for Gavin, who hesitated briefly before stomping into the precinct in his usual manner, Richard on his heels, ignoring the smug smile on his face.

* * *

“Brother, what exactly are you planning to pursue with the Detective?”

Richard was standing behind the stove, looking up at the question. Connor had insisted to accompany Richard on his way home – much to his dismay – and was now sitting on the counter to Richard's right, his legs tied together like a pretzel.

He rested his chin in one hand, which he balanced on one of his knees. His gaze was piercing, demanding an answer.

Richard sighed, leaning back against the sideboard, “I don't have a single clue what you mean.”

Connor didn't look convinced. It was actually quite the opposite. “Come on, Richard. We are both too old not to know that glimmer in your eyes when you're hunting.”

Richard shrugged, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Maybe I'm just hunting a killer?”

Connor wasn't amused.

“He's married, brother. He's a good Detective. And he might want to seem like a cold-hearted bastard, but is protective over those close to him. He's a good man, Richard.”

“And sleeping with me makes him a bad one?”

“Well, if he breaks his vows, giving in to his primitive instincts, then yes!” Connor's gaze was marked by incomprehension, as he looked at him, both hands pointing in Richard's direction.

Another sigh escaped Richard's lips. “Look, you might have your heavenly orders – I don't. I'm here to do you a favour, not to play the harmless sheep. I keep my nose out of your business, you keep yours out of mine. That's the deal I intend to keep.”

Connor let himself slide off the counter. “First, it's not _heavenly orders_ , it's my job“ – “ _Don't see the difference,” Richard murmured in between_ – “Do not interrupt me,” Connor stated calmly, but there was something wild in his eyes. “It's my job to keep the humans in my charge on track, Gavin Reed included. I want you to respect that. I specifically asked for your help, because you're the only of your kind whom I can trust at least one inch further than my nose reaches. One word of mine and you're back on your place in hell again. Don't forget that, brother.”

Richard pushed his way past Connor, putting his attention on his food. “So you came here to give me a sermon?”

He heard Connor sucking in the air, obviously annoyed. “If that's what you want to call it, yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere.”

Richard turned to him, still stirring the food in front of him. There was an evil grin on his face, as he spoke over his shoulder: “Have fun with the Lieutenant!”

Connor was already half out the door, raising his hand in a lazy wave. “I'm not like you, Richard.”

“But you want to be.”

Connor didn't turn back, while closing the door behind him, but he could still feel his brother's stare lingering on his neck.

Maybe Richard wasn't so wrong, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya again!
> 
> I hope you had fun reading the second Chap!  
> I sure as hell had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> As alway, Kudos and Comments are highly appreciated.
> 
> Cheers!


	3. Some People Sometimes Kiss And Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Gavin thinks, "Sometimes it's better to keep your fucking mouth shut." In this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Domestic Abuse

“And you decided to put this on my fragile mind why exactly?”

It was 3:24am in the dimly lit apartment. Gavin had provided himself with all the work he could find to avoid this conversation all day. During his shift, he had even debated more than once, whether going home to Erin wouldn't be the better alternative after all. However, Tina had at some point taken that decision from him by dragging him home, very insistently and very annoyed.

From the corner of his eye he had seen Richard chuckling slightly.

“Maybe, because you're my best friend?” came the muffled answer. Gavin had flopped himself on the couch under the window, feet dangling over one of its arms, face buried in the soft, cozy pillows. He had promised Tina the truth and she wouldn't budge until he spilled all of it, but he couldn't look at her while doing so.

His ears felt as if they were in flames and while he doubted she would tease him for it right now, she would definitely use it against him later.

“Your best friend who gets a bad conscience very easily!” she started to to walk up and down the room in a haste. Gavin turned his head just enough to look up at her. She massaged her temples, obviously deep in thought. He could see those small wrinkles, that appeared on her forehead whenever she was frustrated. They weren't reserved for him in particular, but he was definitely often enough the reason for this look. Recognizing it wasn't rocket since for him anymore.

Tina always joked about Gavin being a stupid asshole, calling him an idiot on the regular. But today was the first time she actually believed he was. There was an unusual bite in her tone, when she finally decided to continue speaking, “Why did your drunk ass not stop you?”

Gavin turned his gaze away, when she took a quick glance at him. “It could be that I wasn't actually drunk?” he mumbled, desperately trying to become one with the couch.

_“What?”_ Tina's voice sounded shrill in his ears. He heard her stop abruptly, probably looking at him as reproachfully as she did back then in Borneo, when he dropped the hotel room key into the sewer system.

“Hey, no need to sound so judgmental!” he shot her an angry glance. _Aren't best friends supposed to be on your side?_

“Excuse me, Gavin, but I have a hard time feeling sorry for you right now,” Tina crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking more conflicted than angry.

“Thanks, that's what I needed to hear.” Gavin buried his face in the pillows again, letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. He threw his hands up in a frustrated gesture, “Why are you even asking, if you don't want to hear the answer?”

“Look,” Tina breathed out, dodging the question. After hesitating for only a moment, she sat down cross-legged on the ground next to him. She grabbed one of his hands, rubbing small circles into his skin. Her voice was softer as she spoke again, “You know you can stay however long you want. But you'll have to tell Erin eventually.”

Groaning, Gavin put his free hand behind his neck. A foul taste was forming in his mouth, that made him want to throw up. “Yeah, can just hope he makes it a fast death.”

Tina furrowed her brows. Irritated, her hand stilled, squeezing Gavin's in confusion. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Gavin hesitated, then made an undefined hand movement. “Nothing. Forget about it.” Breathing out heavily, he turned on the couch, until he was able to sit up somewhat comfortably. “I am going to tell him, okay? Just not today. Or tomorrow. I just need to-” He wiped over his face with his hand once, incredibly tired, frustrated to the brink. “ I just need to sort it out first. And sleep for a while.”

He noticed Tina wanted to add something to that, but she remained quiet, just looking at him in silence. Gavin stared back, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his heart in desperate need to _say_ something. Why he did it, what happened that night, what happened for months.

But while she was his best friend, he questioned if she would believe him. She liked Erin. Everyone liked Erin. He was charismatic, charming, a smooth-talker. Whoever disliked Erin was always just considered jealous, envious. Never mistrusting, suspicious. Erin was perfect, infallible. So Gavin kept his mouth shut.

Instead he sighed, deciding to get up and pulling Tina with him. “We should head to bed. Tomorrow's not gonna be easier.”

She looked at the clock – 3:52am – and let her shoulders drop in defeat. “Yeah, yeah, all right. Feel free to take the guest room at the end of the hall. The other one's got water damage that I've yet got to get fixed. I'll see you tomorrow.”

She gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, earning a crooked grin from his side. With that, they parted ways for the night. When Gavin laid down on his bed only a couple minutes later, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep, deep sleep.

Didn't mean his night would be a pleasant one.

* * *

Today or tomorrow turned into almost a week. Gavin was glad Tina wasn't asking the questions burning under her skin. Sometimes he noticed how close she was to opening her mouth, just to decide once again to keep it shut. It was no surprise to Gavin that she had questions. He had stayed at Tina's a couple of times already, but never this long.

Then again, he also never cheated on Erin before.

Sighing, Gavin took his coffee from the machine and walked back to his desk. The warmth radiating from his mug had a very appreciated calming effect. That it also kept him from falling asleep right on his desk, was just a bonus. Even without Erin by his side he didn't sleep well, his subconscious always on alert.

It didn't help that their case frustrated him. Richard had been right with the blood – the one from the second crime wasn't human. Neither was a good portion from the first (Gavin wondered, how they could've missed such a fucking obvious detail, those guys claimed to be _experts_ , after all), but other than that, they made little progress.

Which meant: No progress at all.

Still, he buried himself in work. He welcomed pretty much everything that distracted him from Erin, who was constantly blowing up his phone, and Richard, who did everything in his power to make a pest of himself.

But the more he tried to ignore it, the more he had to think about it.

“Maybe you should head home for the day, Detective,” Richard's voice tore Gavin out of his thoughts. He looked up at him in surprise.

“What?”

Richard sighed and stoically stated, “You have been looking blankly at the display in front of you for the past ten Minutes, clearly not present with your thoughts. If you plan on continuing this admittedly ineffective style of working, I'm sure you'll be fine doing so on your couch.”

“He's right,” Tina chimed in from her desk, before Gavin could come up with a snarky answer. “You did nothing but work the past week. You need some rest.”

Gavin shot an angry glare in her direction – _traitor_ – but sighed heavily. It annoyed him to no end, but deep down he knew they were right. Didn't mean he'd openly admit to that. He got up ponderously, almost numb from sleep deprivation.

“Okay, Okay. I'm leaving, alright?”

He took his jacket off the back of his chair and slipped into the sleeves. He gulped down his coffee (and promptly burned his insides in the process), then he grabbed his bag, stuffed the tablet from his table inside and headed out.

When he passed her table, Tina stopped him once more.

“Are you staying with me tonight?” there was something soothing in her quiet voice. She was aware that Gavin didn't like addressing his private life at the precinct. Much less his fights with Erin.

After a moment of thinking, he shook his head. “Nah”, he answered, just as quiet. “Have to go back eventually. Might as well be today.” He tried to put on a nonchalant smile and hoped Tina wouldn't notice how fake it was. He couldn't tell her, how afraid he really was to go back home. He hadn't noticed his heart started beating faster, until it calmed down again, when Tina once nodded in relieve and let him go without another word.

He wished she had asked him to stay.

* * *

Gavin unlocked the door and entered the apartment as silently as possible. If he was lucky, Erin was drunk enough to have passed out on the couch once again. As he toed off his shoes, his eyes fell on the flickering lights of the TV coming from the living room.

He let out a heavy breath he wasn't aware he was holding and put his keys on the cupboard to his left in a familiar gesture, before slowly approaching the living room. He gave the half-open door a cautious push, carefully peeking around the corner.

Erin was asleep on the couch, his face pressed into the cushions, a soft snore echoing across the room. There were several empty beer bottles on the ground next to him. By the state Erin was in, Gavin was pretty sure they had been piling up in the past few hours, rather than the past few days.

He sat down his bag next to the counter separating the small open kitchen from the living room. Looking into the fridge, he sighed, but wasn't too surprised to find it almost empty. Honestly speaking, he was truly astonished that the apartment didn't overflow with cardboard boxes of take-away food. Usually Erin was too lazy or too drunk (or both) to cook himself something proper to eat. One of the many things that got stuck on Gavin. And if he wasn't there, well, the delivery-service always was.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Gavin realized he didn't eat at all today.

“So you finally decided to break your punitive silence?” there was a slur in Erin's too loud voice and Gavin could hear him stumble in his attempt to get up. The bottles clattered quietly as they fell over and hit each other slightly.

Gavin took a deep, sharp breath that almost teared his lungs apart, and turned around, after closing the fridge. The heat in the room was suddenly suffocating him, and yet Gavin managed to feel an overwhelming coldness in the core of his bones.

He took a step forward, bracing himself against the counter, fingers curling around its edge – a poor excuse of a lifeline. He could feel his arms trembling ever so slightly, unable to look Erin in the eyes as he quietly spoke, “I guess that's just what you get for beating up people.”

“If you'd have taken only one of my calls, you'd know by know how deeply sorry I am about this. I promise – it won't happen again.” There was something dripping from Erin's teeth that Gavin had mistaken for love all this time. His words came out too smooth, like memorized lines. It was sharp and wrong and it made Gavin's stomach twist.

Gavin closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He knew this situation. It was a broken record on repeat. So why couldn't he stop it? He would stop it. He promised himself he would. His voice was barely audible, as he spoke, “You say that every time, you know?”

“Come again?” Erin raised his eyebrows, suddenly too sober for Gavin's liking. He sounded surprised, but there was something else mixing into the caring, conciliatory façade he tried to keep up. He sounded almost amused, in the worst way possible.

“Don't pull that crap on me, Erin. You know exactly what I mean.” Gavin tried to ignore his beating heart. Tried to ignore the dizzy feeling of not getting enough air in his lungs. Tried to ignore his fear. “And I'm sick of it.”

Gavin noticed Erin's whole demeanor change from compassionate to angry, impatient, threatening. Too late to turn back now.

“I'm not the one who ran out after a small miscommunication.” Erin's words were merciless acid. At this point Gavin had the feeling that's all they were ever gonna be.  
“It was not-”

“I'm not the weakling ignoring calls and texts for a week like a child avoiding the consequences of its actions.” Erin was getting louder by the minute, talking over Gavin's words like usual, taking careful steps towards the counter. It reminded Gavin of a predator trapping his prey.  
“I didn't-”

“I'm not the one getting drunk in some sleazy dive and fortifying himself in some bitch's apartment and-”

“Well, maybe there's better midnight company than you!” Gavin hadn't screamed at Erin for a long time. He couldn't remember if he ever did – it almost felt like a dream, blurred around the edges. The following silence was hurting his ears, drowning him in uncertainty. This wasn't just unknown territory. This was a fucking minefield. And Gavin had just managed to tear his legs apart by stepping on a bomb.

Gavin desperately tried to come up with something to say to calm Erin down, but he knew he fucked up. His mind went blank as an unused canvas and he couldn't say _anything_ after this to defuse the situation, he-

Erin grabbed his shirt, dragging him over the counter. The air was forcefully pressed out of his lungs and suddenly it was hard for him to breath.  
There was a kick to his ribs and a foot on his chest and he was pretty sure he felt something sharp against his upper thigh.  
He should've known talking back was reckless and stupid, for Erin was taller than him, stronger and the alcohol was making him unrestrained.

He didn't know why he thought he could win this one.

He wanted nothing more than to hide, make himself as small as possible, becoming one with the carpet underneath him.  
But Erin wouldn't let him.

There was a sharp pain at Gavin's temple and Erin was screaming something at him, but Gavin couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears. Gavin looked up at him reflexively, spotting the sole of a black, skanky shoe aimed at his face. He tried raising his arms in defense, but his movements were panic-stricken, uncoordinated and _too slow_.

He saw stars dancing at the corners of his field of view and then – nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back my dudes!
> 
> Update took a little longer than anticipated,  
> Uni stuff was a bit overwhelming the last couple  
> weeks.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos/Comments are, as  
> always, highly appreciated!


	4. Angels Do Not Come To Such Prayers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't find You anymore. I am alone." - And maybe demons are the good guys, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mental Abuse (Just In Case)

A day of Gavin not showing up at work was unusual. Two days of him being absent were a cause for concern. Three days meant something was definitely wrong.

Richard had noticed Tina being nervous from day one, even though she had already avoided him before Gavin's disappearance. She had avoided any form of communication and made sure they were never alone in a room for too long. As she got up from her desk now, heading to the break room for a coffee, he decided to follow her.

“I'm aware that you know something,” he said slowly, coming to a halt directly behind Tina, startling her. She pressed a hand to her chest, breathing heavily after flinching in surprise.

She turned around after a short moment, leaning backwards against the counter, hand still on her beating heart. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“I'm aware,” Richard answered calmly, reaching behind her and placing her coffee in her hand. As she looked up to him from the corner of her eye, she appeared to be both uncomfortable and angry at the same time, deciding whether she should dash out or finally confront him.

Richard took that decision from her.

“I know you are what Gavin would consider his best friend,” he started, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And as such I can imagine he told you of which...nature our first encounter was. Which would make your attempts at keeping your distance from me reasonable.”

Tina scoffed, unamused. She took a long sip of her coffee, cursing when she burned her tongue. “I don't think I have to give you a lecture on infidelity and seducing married men while we are at work, do I now?”

Richard chuckled slightly, earning a disapproving glance from the shorter woman. “No. No, you really don't. However,” he said, inspecting his right hand's fingernails, as if completely unbothered by the topic. “I was wondering if you could give me a lecture on Gavin's whereabouts.”

Tina's expression turned from angry to troubled, clearly debating if she should entrust herself to him. In the end she let out a long, heavy sigh, defeated. “No. No, I can't.”

Richard raised his eyebrows, “I assume it is _not_ normal for Gavin to not come into work after a busy week.”

Tina scoffed again. “Normal?” she put her mug into the sink to her left, before supporting her hands on the counter and looked over her shoulder, back to Richard. “What about the boy _is_ normal?” She stopped for a second, gnawing on her lower lip, then continued, “But no. Gavin never stops working on an open case. He would sleep at the precinct, if we'd let him.”

She sighed once more, rubbing her hand over her forehead in a stressed gesture. “Last time this happened, it was shortly before the wedding. It was so bad, Gavin almost called the whole thing off. Neither Erin nor Gavin would tell me what it was about, though,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “Anyways. Back then he stayed with his brother for a couple of days. But I already called Eli yesterday, and Gavin isn't with him.”

Tina had started doing the dishes, just to have something to do besides worrying about Gavin and therefore hadn't noticed the frown that appeared on Richard's face at the mention of Erin's name.

“I'm actually getting a little uneasy with the whole situation. Especially since neither Gavin nor Erin are answering their phones. Eli couldn't get a hold of them either.” Tina stopped in her motion, putting the last mug on the counter. “Maybe I should check on them after work.”

Richard smiled a small, tense smile and laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. “Don't worry about it,” he said quietly. “I was about to head out anyway. I can stop by their place on the way.”

She tried to smile encouragingly, but failed miserably. “Thanks. But can...you just tell him to call me? It would really help my nerves to calm down.”

Richard nodded once, then left as fast es he could.

* * *

Staying at home already wasn't easy for Gavin. Every cell in his body itched to work on the case, to finally make some progress. With Erin around, however, it was a living nightmare. When Erin had gotten the job about a year ago, Gavin had been happy about it. He was almost certain back then, it would pull Erin out of his dead end, bringing back the good old times.

Now that he had to tiptoe around his own apartment, Erin working home office felt like a curse.

The doorbell rang, almost causing Gavin to jump in surprise, the glass in his hands nearly slipping from his fingers. He put it back into the cupboard above him with trembling hands, as the doorbell rang once again, sending a shrieking sound through the apartment.

Erin looked up from his place on the couch, eyes barely able to focus on Gavin. “Hey, you useless bitch,” there was a raspy slur to his painfully slow words. “Go and answer the fucking door.”

Gavin laid down the cloth on the counter, muttering quickly, “On my way.”

“Make them go away,” was Erin's sharp answer. “And tune down the damn attitude. I'm sick of it.”

Gavin stopped in his tracks, sensing that dark kind of energy radiating of off Erin again. He looked back, apologetically. “I apologize, darling.”

It was painful and humiliating and it made Gavin's pride bleed out, but he could feel that there was a crack in his nose's bone – he didn't want to add a couple of broken ribs.

When Gavin passed the mirror in the hallway, he once again noticed the bruises blooming on his nose and under his eyes. They were dark, and they hurt and there was no way he could hide them now. He looked up at the ceiling. A few weeks ago he almost cursed the whole world when the lightbulb had blown through, but maybe the shadows would be to his advantage now.

The doorbell rang one more time, urging Gavin to hurry up. He just wanted this to be over with. He took one last deep breath, before opening the door just a notch, rising both eyebrows – and immediately regretting it, when a sharp pain crept along his nose – as he spotted Richard.

Gavin felt his stomach twist; he was definitely _not_ ready to deal with him right now. Not when his nose was probably broken and Erin was barely asleep only a couple of meters away. So he went back to his usual defense mode, saying with a low growl, “What the fuck do you want?”

When he heard the faint sound of bottles clashing against each other, his eyes momentarily flickered in the the direction of the living room, nervous.

“Is that a black eye, Gavin?” the question was unnecessary, purely out of reflex. Richard could smell the blood – Gavin's blood – and alcohol from where he stood and to him Gavin appeared like a prey trapped in a corner.

They both knew the answer.

“None of your damn business, now fuck off,” Gavin grumbled in defense and tried to shut the door in Richard's face. Richard sighed and pushed one foot into the small gap. He opened the door forcefully, ignoring Gavin's hissed protests. Richard closed the door behind them, wrapping them in darkness.

Richard put a hand to his neck, not letting go while he traced over his cheekbone with timid fingers. There was a flame hidden in his eyes, that sent a shiver down Gavin's spine.

Gavin's neck felt warm under Richard's touch, almost burning, and he wanted to lean into it. Instead he tried to pry it off immediately, his heart fluttering in his chest – if due to Richard being this close again or due to the danger of being _seen_ this close to Richard, he didn't really want to know.

Either way, he wouldn't like the answer.

He heard Erin getting up, stumping through the living room. If he was lucky, he would just stumble into the kitchen, searching for another beer from the fridge.

Gavin had the feeling he wouldn't be this lucky.

He looked up at Richard, hand still on his. “Listen,” he whispered frantically. “I know you mean well, but I'm fine and definitely don't need _your_ help.” There was a sharp, tense hiss to his words. “So you can go, _now_.”

“What the fuck is taking you so long?” Erin appeared in the door frame, leaning against it as not to trip over. Gavin froze, slowly turning his face into his direction. He hadn't noticed, how disarranged Erin really looked, too used to the sight. That alone should make him leave, hide at Tina's or crash on Elijah's couch – but he didn't. Couldn't.

Erin's glazed gaze fell on Richard and a strange kind of disgust appeared on his face, that Gavin didn't want to admit being all too familiar with.

“So you're bringing your little fucktoy into our home now?” Erin staggered into their direction, propping himself against the wall. “Isn't enough to be a cheating disgrace, huh?” Hate was bleeding from his tongue, eyes searching for Gavin, focusing his anger on him. “Should've known you'd add currish whore to your list of titles.”

When Erin took a step in Gavin's direction, Richard stepped in front of him, entangling his hands behind his back. He raised his chin in a threatening manner, dark eyes looking down on Erin, despite being almost the same height. “I think,” he began, dangerously calm. “You should really watch your language.”

Erin stopped in his tracks like a deer facing headlights, clearly not used to being spoken down upon. A smug grin appeared on his face. “So that's what you think, huh? Guess what, bitchface: This is _my_ apartment and if you don't swing your stupid whore ass out of that door behind you immediately, I'm gonna break your fucking jaw, so get. The fuck. Out!”

Gavin swallowed dryly behind Richard, surprised Erin could gather his thoughts enough to spill out an impromptu speech like this. There was something about Richard that unsettled him. An energy that was similar to Erin's, but not quite.

Richard didn't even bat an eyelid. Instead, he pulled the corners of his mouth just a tad bit upwards and bent forward far enough so that their noses almost touched. Erin drew back slightly , surprised by the bold gesture.

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” Richard purred. “And you're sure you can handle the echo?”

The fist swinging at Richard while Erin lunged into his direction, was twisted on Erin's back. Gavin took a step back, as Erin cried out in pain and dropped to his knees without Richard moving a single muscle.

His head was yanked back in an uncomfortable angle, his eyes wide with fear. Richard towered above him triumphantly.

“What- how are you-” Erin pressed out through gritted teeth, hissing when his arm was twisted even more.

Richard chuckled amused and tilted his head to the side. “Still such a bigmouth, hm?”

“I'm going to fucking strangle you!”

Richard looked up at the ceiling, sighing and shaking his head. “Obstinate, like they always are. Maybe a little nap can help with that.” Richard reached out, touching Erin's temple. Erin collapsed to the ground with a thud, giving space to a more than welcomed silence.

“He should be asleep for a while,” Richard stated calmly. He turned around to face Gavin. “When he wakes up, he won't have any recollection of this conversation. All that stays, will be a deeply unsettling feeling nagging at the back of his mind.”

Gavin barely noticed the bored tone in Richard's voice, too busy trying to process what had just happened. Something clicked in his mind, remembering comments about being a demon, which (even though Gavin would absolutely deny it when asked about it) basically became a running joke between them– only that those weren't jokes, apparently.

“You...you weren't kidding?” Gavin stared at Erin. Maybe all of this was just a dream? A nice one, for once? Gavin blinked a few times, gathering his thoughts. “They...those weren't jokes? I-I mean the whole demon thing?”

Richard took a deep, exasperated breath, then said, “Since I just brought your poor excuse of a husband to his knees without touching him and essentially wiped his memory with my fingertips, would it be of any use to deny it now?”

Gavin shook his head: No.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Richard took a lazy step in Gavin's direction. “Then you should probably know I don't make a habit out of lying. About anything, for the matter. That's kind of what everyone expects of us. And I never thought there's a point in doing what everyone expects you to do, is there now?”

Gavin's eyes were still on Erin, drawn to them like they would be to a gruesome, gory car accident. He just couldn't bring himself to look away. A thought came to his mind. It was random and about the least important thing right now, and yet he _had_ to ask, “Wait, if you-” Gavin's eyes flickered to Richard, who was now incredibly closer.

Gavin took a few deep breaths. “If you're a demon,” he said, much calmer. “Is Connor-”

“An angel,” Richard chimed in. “Unlike me, he wasn't dumb enough to fall. Or maybe I was too intelligent to stay. Depends on who you're asking, really.”

Richard swiped the conversation away with a move of his hand, catching Gavin's attention. “As much as I hate to say it,” he said bitterly, acid dripping from his teeth. “I think we should put him on the couch. Don't want him waking up in the hall without helping him backlash on you. Would you lead the way, perhaps?”

Gavin lead the way almost in a trance, carefully stepped over Erin's body and opened the door to the living room, which had previously fallen shut behind his husband. He stepped aside and shook his head in disbelief, as Erin floated through the door. For just a moment his body swung to the left, his head banging against the door handle with a muffled sound.

Gavin threw a reproachful look at Richard, who had raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Whoopsie,” he said with a little smile and shrugged his shoulders. Gavin scoffed, turning away, but he couldn't disguise the small grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

* * *

Gavin had leaned back against the counter while Richard put down Erin on the worn-out couch opposite of the TV. Gavin looked down to his socks, nibbling on the inside of his lower lip.

He winced, as Richard laid both his hands on his waist, lifting him onto the counter with ease. Gavin looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What the- fuck, let me go!” He tried to jump back down again, but Richard kept him steady in his place.

“If you would've listened,” Richard began to explain patiently. “You would have heard that I want to take a closer look at your face.”

“I don't need you to-” Gavin hissed, as Richard pressed his thumbs against his nose.

“Come on,” he stated dryly. “You should be used to a broken nose by now.”

Gavin beat his shoulder half-heartedly, causing Richard to chuckle. “Doesn't make the pain less unpleasant, smart-ass.”

“Stop whining and tell me what your head is doing. Hurting, I assume?”

Rolling his eyes, Gavin sighed irritated, “Yes, it does.”

There was a short pause, Richards fingers hovering over Gavin's cheekbones, before he finally asked, “So you told him about us?”

Gavin was silently looking away, fidgeting with his fingers. Richard put one hand on Gavin's, the other under his chin, forcing him to look up at his expectant face.

“Not on purpose,” he finally admitted. “He wasn't listening and I snapped at him and I told him-” Gavin took a few deep breaths, averting his gaze to somewhere to Richard's right. “I told him there was better midnight company than him,” he said very quietly, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He grabbed the cloth next to him, pulling at the frayed edges. “He somehow figured it out from there.”

There was another uncomfortable pause, in which Richard gnashed his teeth. On second thought, maybe he should've broken Erin's neck, instead of just knocking him unconscious.

“Well, good news is,” Richard began, swallowing back his anger. “It's nothing really severe.”

“Oh, yeah? You a doctor now?”

Richard grinned in amusement. “Perks of being a demon, I suppose.” He let the grin drop from his lips. “The bruises will fade in a while, the cut on your thigh – don't look at me like you thought I wouldn't notice – isn't deep and already healing. And the headache is most likely just stress and displaced pain from your nose.”

Gavin scoffed, but remained silent otherwise. There was an expression on his face that Richard didn't like. He wanted to overshadow it, replace it by something better, happier.

“Why exactly are you doing this?” Gavin asked, interrupting Richard's train of thought.

“Doing what?”

“Helping me.”

Gavin still didn't dare to look at him, not really. He tilted his head into his direction, curious, but his eyes were focused on a spot next to Richard's face, missing it just slightly, but calculated.

Richard decided to take a step to the side, occupying the space, drawing Gavin's attention solely to himself. He wanted to be the only thing on Gavin's mind, completely oblivious to the fact that he already was.

He took the cloth from Gavin's hands, crumpled it up in his own and put his hands on the counter to Gavin's sides, capturing Gavin's gaze, eyes burning into his.

“Believe it or not, Gavin Reed,” he said, a purr to his words. “I have taken an interest in you.”

“An interest,” Gavin interrupted bluntly. “In a married man with a seedy ego.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, a deep, affirmative sound coming from his throat. “And to satisfy this interest,” he added, “I need you very much alive.”

“Besides,” Richard continued, forcing himself in between Gavin's knees and putting his hands on this thighs, right thumb caressing the area around the cut with careful movements. “I might be a demon,” he leaned forward, voice coarse and dark, but also _fond_ and Gavin couldn't help but momentarily be grateful for sitting on the counter, so his legs couldn't buckle beneath him. “But I absolutely despise unnecessary violence.”

Gavin's skin was in _flames_ as Richard brushed his lips along his cheek. He was sure by now Richard could feel his heartbeat fast against his ribs. He got his confirmation when Richard smirked softly against his skin, squeezing his thighs slightly.

Gavin closed his eyes shut, holding back a whine when Richard started to trace a fine line from the corner of his mouth, up to his ear and back. Richard made Gavin gasp by pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw. “You should leave,” he whispered carefully, seriousness overflowing his words nonetheless, before he placed another kiss behind his ear, lips lingering on the soft skin for longer than necessary.

Gavin knew he should push him away, telling him to leave and never come back, but he was too busy remembering how to breathe steadily. Instead he dropped his head on Richard's shoulder with a groan and grabbed the fabric of his shirt, searching for some security.

“He wasn't always like that, you know?” Gavin's voice was low, as if it caused him physical pain. “And he has good days, too.”

“Does he have _good_ days, or does he have _less bad_ days?” Richard chimed in.

“Does it matter?”

“It does,” Richard answered and Gavin felt his beard scratch against his cheek, when he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “There's a difference in him cherishing you the way you deserve, loving you like he should, and you being glad he insults you instead of laying his hands on you in unjustified anger.”

Gavin lifted his head, looking at his husband over Richard's shoulder. There was a little, traitorously honest voice in his had that agreed with Richard.

Agreed with a _demon_.

Which was a thought so absurd, it brought him back to reality, making him shake his head and letting go of Richard's shirt simultaneously.

He wouldn't go with him.

Richard sighed defeated, but wasn't surprised. Gavin was stubbornly dedicated and he didn't expect that to change practically over night.

He was disappointed nonetheless.

He straightened up and took a step back. “I can't force you to leave,” he stated, “but you should at least call Officer Chen, if you don't want her to come by, as well.”

Gavin saw that Richard wanted to add something to that, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead he kissed Gavin briefly, only for a second, then left without another word.

Gavin didn't move away from the kitchen counter for a long time, silently observing Erin, while the voice in his head screamed at him, telling him he should've taken the chance and go.

And Gavin had the feeling it was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys, welcome back!
> 
> I hope you had as much fun reading  
> this chapter as I had with writing it!
> 
> As always: Kudos & Comments are  
> higly appreciated.
> 
> Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, my dudes!
> 
> Welcome to my first attempt at writing a multi-chaptered  
> fic.  
> I hope you enjoyed so far, Kudos and Comments are always  
> appreciated and I hope you're staying tuned for the next part.
> 
> Cheers!


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